To Fly On Broken Wings
by Unique .F
Summary: Merle, Eragon's adoptive daughter, never knew her true parents. She was discovered as a baby left in the forest. But she can dream. And as a wise man once said, "Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly." Raised with Riders and Dragons, what is one wild girl to do against the whole of Alageasia? cowritten with 3Alaska3
1. Prologue, Ill Met By Moonlight

**I would just like to put in a disclaimer. First of all, neither Inheritance Cycle nor its characters are mine. Second, the idea for this story is not wholly mine. Thus I credit to Alaska, who is sort of co-writing it with me. Well, here we are, enjoy!**

_Prologue, Ill Met By Moonlight_

The little girl poised on the brink of flight. Her ears pricked and her tiny heart pumped with fear-fuelled adrenalin. Her dark eyes sought the wavering, distorted shadows. They shone in the thin beam of moonlight like those of a hunted deer.

A low, coughing snarl, caught in the back of the throat.

Her hair had gone black with the gloom of the chilling night. It whipped around her face like matted snakes as she whirled. A scarred foot landed stray on a patch of slippery ice. She pitched forward with a swift pure cry. In a crash of thin sharp bones and torn dirty dress she fell.

A cacophony of yips and snarls. Out of the lingering woods they tumbled. Their steaming breath made hot damp puffs against her skin. Their lolling tongues were scarlet between their yellow curving teeth. Their eyes gleamed in the moonlight bright with the excitement of the chase. Their heavy winter grey coats felt cold wet and thick.

They worried over the little body. They pulled it this way and that. They were eager and hungry. It had been a sparse summer and the winter had set in hard and deep.

She was too cold to feel the not so gentle nips of their teeth. She lay like a broken china doll. Her stick limbs were thrown awkwardly over the warmth sapping rocks. Her eyelids fluttered and slipped closed.

A warm tear slipped down her gaunt cheek.


	2. Chapter One, Discovery

**Hey, that's the same first name for the chapter as in ERAGON. Convenient. **

_Chapter One, Discovery_

_Rain. Why does it always rain when I don't want it to? _

So thought the dragonrider, pulling the luxurious cloak he wore tighter around his shivering body. The glorious creature he rode snorted. A low puff of smoke coiled up over her dazzling shoulder and into his face. He coughed, and grimaced.

His head throbbed dully in a regular beat matching the tempo of the great thumping wings. They positively slapped the air with bone-cracking force as the dragon powered herself upwards.

He surveyed the land below him, amazed, as always, at the vast sprawling landscape stretched out below him. They were lucky to have discovered this place, he mused.

Almost twenty years ago, he and the elves that had decided to stay with him had agreed to sail down the Edda River out, away from the known world to a new land that the Riders could inhabit.

It had seemed hopeless. All there was barren sandy grasslands, with the occasional forest, until the the land dropped into the sea. By common agreement, they had decided to stay within a few days sail of land in case of emergency, and headed only a little out into the glittering, wide expanse of water. They had sailed for almost a year, pausing to return to land and restock their supplies, before they found a place.

It was a large, bountiful, unexplored land. Smaller than Alageasia, the elves had decided, but larger than Vroengard. To their surprise, Eragon and his dragon Saphira had discovered one day whilst flying that they were actually off the northeast coast of Alageasia, having almost circumnavigated the mainland. If they flew for the day at a pace, they could spot the smudgy outlines of land.

The wide channel separating Alageasia from their new home was large, large enough to dissuade most travellers and ensure the riders got their treasured privacy without cutting off contact to the mainland. After studying a map, Eragon had concluded that the land they could see was actually the border of Du Weldenvarden, where the forest stopped and the land ran out into sea.

But the island they had found was perfect for far more than just its location. In its center was an enormous, hollowed out volcano that had blown itself pockmarked with some great and final explosion. The volcano was immensely vast, larger and higher than even Farthen Dur, similar to Tronjeheim, the large city mountain made of marble by the dwarves.

And around it was lush, fertile land that was home to herds of bounding horses and thick, shaggy cow like creatures with heavy humped shoulders and curving horns like an Urgal's.

But even better was the enormous lake in the bowl of the volcano, ever-refreshed by streams finding their way through the holes in the dead rock. It was riddled with wide, spacious caves.

It was perfect.

_Yes, _Saphira, his loving friend and deepest partner of his heart and soul, agreed proudly, and he knew her eyes had taken on the special gleam they always did when she contemplated their success. _All our beautiful hatchlings._

The wild dragons had decided to stay with the bonded ones in the old volcano. A few had already hatched and grown excellently under Saphira's superb care.

Eragon yawned and massaged his temples. _Ouch, _he complained ruefully.

His headache throbbed behind his eyes, a blatant reminder of the pains of getting drunk. It had seemed a great idea at the time, and everyone else was joining in. Pity he'd forgotten the hangover.

_It's your own fault, _Saphira remarked smugly, _You knew you had work to do in the morning._

Work. Eragon contemplated the word sourly. Work ruled his life. It seemed as if he had overthrown Galbatorix to be embroiled in a petty war of rider politics and little games.

Saphira interrupted his pity-party with a brief snort and a twitch to her head. She half began to dive, but then flapped up to her previous altitude once more.

_What is it?_

_I thought I saw something, _she replied.

Curiosity aroused, Eragon stared down at the rocky outcrops sticking out of the verdant green of the lush landscape. He spotted nothing.

Unasked, Saphira tilted into a shallow dive, scanning the ground.

Eragon pulled himself further into her mind so he could use her sharper eyes.

He heard the howl of a wolf pack far below.

_Eragon, _Saphira said in a funny voice, _I think those wolves are chasing a child._

_What?_ Eragon followed her line of sight and saw a tiny figure darting through the trees, with the wolves bounding after them. _We have to save them, _he told his dragon grimly, and grasped Brisingr.

Saphira did not question it. She plummeted towards the ground at full speed, leaving Eragon's stomach far behind.

The exhilarating rush was not entirely ignored by Eragon. He felt his mouth curve up into a grin. He blinked and refocused his eyes on the blurry ground. He had to save the child.

He could barely make out the child sprinting out of the protective canopy onto the bare rock. Within seconds the wolves were upon the child, and they disappeared underneath a pile of furry bodies. The dragonrider and his partner were much closer now, for Eragon's elvish eyes to be able to see on his own. He drew Brisingr, careful not to spear himself or his dragon with it as he did so.

Saphira roared, and sent a jet of blue flame into the air. The wolves scattered, quickly back into the forest, though Saphira could see they weren't entirely gone.

Saphira swooped low, and Eragon leapt off her back and rolled. A move like that would have killed him before he had changed.

He hurried over to the child. The girl, for she was indeed female, was tiny, barely more than six years old. She was painfully thin, and her stomach was bloated with starvation. He crouched down, marvelling at how she was still alive. He could see the bones under her skin. There was no flesh on her at all. Above him, Saphira roared in anger.

_How dare they treat their hatchling like this? _She snarled. She was circling overhead, but now she dipped suddenly and landed next to him with a loud crash.

At this sound the girl's eyes shot open, and suddenly she crammed herself backwards, into the rocks, away from Saphira. Her little frame shook, though from the cold, shock, pain or fear Eragon couldn't tell.

"What's your name, little one? Don't be afraid," Eragon soothed. He reached out to touch her, but the girl flinched away. "I need to heal you, little one," he told her gently, extending his hands, palms up.

Saphira moved closer, cautiously. She was surprisingly stealthy- all he could hear was her tail, dragging over the rocks like a thick blue snake. She sniffed the motionless little body, and examined her with one great blue eye.

To Eragon's surprise, the girl stared back. She had fierce dark brown eyes that glinted with gold flecks under her mop of unruly dark hair, snarled with twigs and tangles. Her skin was as dark as night. She wore a tattered, ripped dress that looked a little too big for her. It barely covered her skin, it was so torn. The material was rough and scratchy, like sackcloth. He guessed she was human, because she was too small to be an Urgal and too large to be a dwarf. He remembered that elf children glowed with magic, and were so rare there would have undoubtedly been reports to a lost child, so she wasn't one of them, either.

"Who are you, little one? Where's your family?" He asked her, not really expecting a reply. Gently, he extruded a tendril of thought and touched her mind. To his surprise, he found it almost completely bare. All she waking up next to a branch with an aching head and being scared, and stumbling through the forest, then running, away from the wolves. From her scarce memories, Eragon guessed she hadn't eaten for almost two days, though her body told him she had been malnourished for a long time before that.

Her eyes snapped around and she glared at him. He felt her mind turn hostile as she detected his presence. Alarmed, he retreated. She shouldn't have been able to know she was there.

_Saphira, would do we do? _

The dragoness extended her neck towards the little girl. _We take her back, _she replied. _And then we try and find who abandoned her and why. _

Her thoughts were a broil of anger and hatred, promising justice on those who had dared wrong this tiny, fragile girl lost in the woods.


	3. Chapter Two, Never Knew

The powerful blue rider carefully wrapped his arms around the thin, fragile body, helping the little girl slide her legs through the adjusted loops he normally secured his arms with. She felt so frail.

"Hold onto my arms tightly," he warned, "This can be a bit...jolting."

She was as silent as before, but he felt her fingers tighten spasmodically on his forearms. Saphira pushed down and jumped into the air, her hindclaws scarring the rock as her enormous pinions worked hard to achieve height from the vertical takeoff. She preferred to fall into flight from a cliff or tower. Dragons tended to indolence, Eragon had noticed.

Saphira's strong rudder-like tail swung round and she wheeled, dipping, until they were almost vertical. He could feel her heart bounding under his arm that pressed against her ribs, and she gasped. For it not for the loops, she would have tumbled straight off and fallen to a broken death in the pines below.

He snuck a look at her and to his surprise saw a proud exultation in her eyes, and a fiery joy. Saphira hummed at the response of the girl. So, she liked to fly? That proved, therefore, she had more intelligence than a cow.

Like azure sails, the sparkling dragon arrowed through the air, aligning herself with a favourable breeze. She spread her wings wide, allowing them to take full advantage of the power provided.

Eragon had grown used to flying Saphira, but he was aware not everyone was as accustomed to the experience as him. Every beat of her wings threw him in the saddle, and the wideness of her neck made it difficult to grip. But the girl, who was smaller than he, seemed perfectly at ease about a thousand feet up in the air.

Saphira glided easily. They were not far from the huge volcano, clearly visible from any point on the island as a dark smudge. Inside, he knew that the elves and the riders would be training together. There were currently fourteen riders in training, and Eragon knew that Arya, who did a sort of preliminary training with the young riders before sending them to Eragon, had one rider under her care in Du Weldenvarden.

Eragon had set up an apprenticeship system, of a kind. There was himself, highest in the order. He was master of everyone and anyone. Then the elves, who had taken on the roles as tutors, of a kind. Then the earliest riders, down to the latest. About four riders had already 'graduated'. These were a rank below the elves, but still higher than the apprentice riders. He didn't want them teaching anyone yet, they were too green.

It took a little while for them to reach the nameless 'city' of the riders. Saphira aligned her wings and soared through a gap in the hollow-mountain. For a moment, they were enveloped in night, but then they emerged over the Bowl (as the great lake had come to be known) in the dazzling sunlight pouring through the summit.

A few dragons were lazing by the lake. They looked up and roared a welcoming cry for Saphira. Eragon felt the vibration under his legs as she roared back.

She swept down, gusts from her wings swirling the sand that had accumulated on the ledge of their cave- one of the many riddling the extinct volcano's walls. She landed with a jarring thud. Eragon dismounted quickly, and turned back to help the girl. She looked at him uncertainly, then swung her leg over Saphira's side and slid down the dragon's extended leg like a ramp.

The blue rider smiled. He took the girl's hand and led her carefully into his abode, where he shouted down the cookery shaft for some food for two.

_Saphira, can you get me Unipé? _Eragon asked his partner.

Snorting indignantly, the cerulean dragoness replied snappily, _I'm not your servant, Eragon. _Nonetheless she opened her great wings and soared down to the Bowl, searching for the female elf.

Unipé didn't keep him waiting. She arrived with the tray of food in one hand he had sent for.

Eragon thanked her, and asked the elf to help the child bathe and clothe herself while she ravenously devoured the food.

He knelt down next to the nameless, fierce girl, and whispered, "I'll be back, don't worry. You just go with Unipé and she'll get you some new clothes to wear."

He never knew she would turn out like this.

(())


End file.
